


She-Ra Prompts

by Patcho418



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:27:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26031136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Patcho418/pseuds/Patcho418
Summary: Just a collection of short ficlets for She-Ra! I sometimes take writing requests on Tumblr so be sure to check them out and maybe request something!
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Catra/Scorpia (She-Ra)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	1. would you lie with me (and just forget the world)

Most nights in Bright Moon are comfortable and cool, silent and calm, peaceful in the way Adora’s still getting used to herself. War and adrenaline still rattle her bones, divine light coursing through her veins almost endlessly, and that scar etched into the skin on her chest is a quiet reminder of everything she’s been through. Everything they’ve been through.

It’s why, when she awakes to starlight overhead and a quiet world around her, she finds solace in the way Catra snores beside her.

In another life, Adora would think it’s obnoxious, noisy, and probably the reason she’s awake before the sun has even risen. But, of course, this is their life, and Catra’s heavy purring is nothing short of beautiful. At the very least, it tells her that Catra’s finally found some kind of peace.

Adora knows about the nightmares: after everything, she completely understands why Catra trembles and sweats and groans into her pillow, even with danger and death so far away from them. Catra may still be guarded, masking her fears and emotions throughout the day, opening up only in vulnerable quiet between the two of them, but Adora still hurts when Catra’s having a bad dream.

Adora lifts a groggy hand up to Catra’s shoulder, gently trailing her nails up and down her arm. Catra’s still, and a soft smile pulls across Adora’s lips. She strokes her arm for a moment, relishing in the peace with a giddiness suppressed only by the sleep that swims still in her head.

Finally, she glides her hand under Catra’s arm, cradling Catra against her chest and burying her face against the base of her neck. The bristles of Catra’s fur tickle against her nose, and her lips meet scarred skin where wires and steel once threatened to take everything away from them.

She lets out a sigh, unable not to think about Prime and the war and the way Catra’s body felt so limp in her own arms, entirely sure for a moment that Catra would be gone forever, dead at the hands of someone who could hardly bat an eye at her pain–no, who relished devilishly in it.

It’s hard for Adora not to think about these things when she feels that mark against her lips, or when Catra writhes and squirms in her sleep as she murmurs pleas of mercy, or when the stars shine so bright above them as if their demise didn’t come from that sky above.

It’s easier for her to find calm again when she tunes her mind to the gentle rise and fall of Catra’s chest, or the rhythm of her deep, purring snores, or when she remembers that the war is over and they’re here, together, in bed gain and getting used to the idea of peace.

Peace, to Adora, is Catra finding fearless sleep for once.

Adora pulls Catra closer into her body, planting a small kiss against her neck, a hushed blessing for Catra’s dreams to be sweet and her sleep to be profound. It isn’t long before Adora drifts back to sleep herself, finding her own peace under starlight and with Catra in her arms.


	2. Wait for Me

Catra hasn’t felt this nervous since Adora left for college four months ago.

Her heart rattles in her chest, sending tremors down her arms that cause her hands to tremble; she balls her hands into fists to stop herself from shaking, but it feels as futile as any other way to calm herself down.

Life without Adora has been--well, it’s been a number of things. Dull’s definitely one word for it, along with boring, lame, and stupid. It hadn’t always been easy, though, and the conflicted feelings of past and present make Catra’s stomach churn.

There had been easier times, and there had been times she’s practically grown to resent. Times when life was easy and carefree, where Adora could go off and scrape her elbow and Catra would follow with a bandaid and a kiss to make it better. Times when the space between them was expansive, barren, without so much as a star to guide them back to each other. Those had been the hardest days of all, when all Catra could do was shed bitter tears into her pillow and hold back screams at the universe.

But that’s the past, and the present is better. At least, she’s hoping it’s better.

Catra absentmindedly fiddles with the bracelet on her wrist, tracing the engraved letters of Adora’s name with the tip of her nail. Things are better, she hopes. After all, the universe would have a hard time keeping them apart anymore if Catra has anything to say about it.

She checks her phone; nothing. Apart from a few messages from Scorpia, of course, there’s nothing, and her heart twists. Adora could always just be late, but then again Adora’s never been late for anything in her life (Catra can’t help but think of every time Adora showed up early to a party and ended up being the first person there).

It’s a bitter memory in that it’s five minutes past four, Adora said she’d meet Catra at four, and that the note they left on could have just been too good to be true.

* * *

_“So, spending your last day in town with me, huh?” Catra commented from the other side of Adora’s room, kicking her suitcase for emphasis._

_Adora sighed wistfully, tossing a balled-up shirt towards Catra with incredible aim. “You know you’re not gonna get me to skip college like that,” Adora retorted._

_Catra caught the shirt expertly before unballing it and examining it. At this point Catra was sure she’d seen at least every piece of clothing in Adora’s closet (though that wasn’t really much to speak of), and at least half of those had a story in Catra’s heart._

_She pressed her lips together to stop from grumbling. This was what was best for Adora, it was what she’d worked her ass off for four years for. So maybe Catra didn’t like the idea of Adora leaving so soon after graduating high school and so soon after life became so much better for them, but she’d been bitter for too many years, and Adora didn’t deserve another minute of that._

_Catra decided not to dwell on that anymore; they were here, together again, and so she pushed any bitterness aside for Adora’s sake._

_A smirk pulled at the corner of her lips at the memory this shirt brought to mind.“This is the shirt you spilled an entire smoothie on like an idiot.”_

_Adora looked up and regarded Catra with a curious expression before her eyes darted down to the shirt in Catra’s hands._

_“Oh yeah,” she mused before looking back up into Catra’s eyes. “Hey, that’s the only thing you remember about that day?”_

_Catra’s cheeks flashed pink. “No! I just thought it was funny!”_

_“Right, just like how funny it was when that dog barked at you and you hid behind me, huh?”_

_Catra sputtered some half-hearted retort, but Adora’s laughter had begun to grow, and her laughter was something so good to hear. No matter how flushed or angry Catra could get, hearing Adora laugh like this brought her back down and made her remember just why she was so glad Adora came back in the first place._

_And now she was leaving again._

_Adora must’ve caught the way her head dipped, because she quickly made her way over to Catra and took the shirt from her hands._

_“Hey, sorry, it wasn’t funny. That dog was really big.”_

_Catra sniffled, damming herself against the rush of tears threatening to spill soon. “It’s not that, Adora.”_

_“I know,” she said, her voice characteristically solemn, “but I can’t just not go to college, Catra.” Then, in an even smaller, hopeful voice: “You could come with me? I’m sure it’s not too late to register. Or you could find a job in town!”_

_“And just quit my job here?”_

_“I thought you hated that job.”_

_“Obviously I do,” Catra said shortly. “It doesn’t mean I’m just gonna leave on a whim, Adora. Not like I even could.”_

_Adora nodded as her hand found Catra’s shoulder, her thumb drawing circles along the bristles of her fur. Catra barely jumped at the gentle touch, instead leaning into it. Sometimes she saw Adora as the brash jock who dominated the field on game day and completely forgot about every delicate thing about her._

_“Of course. Sorry. It’s just...it is hard to leave, okay?” she said._

_Catra nodded at her words, leaning further into the gentle stroke of Adora’s thumb over her shoulder. “It’s hard to watch you leave.”_

_Adora looked up at her, and Catra could see her brilliant blue eyes trying to hold back tears too. “But you’ll wait for me, right?”_

_“Obviously. If you come back, I mean.”_

_“I will. I promise.”_

_Catra’s heart panged with longing; they’d made promises before, and they’d kept most of them, but this one felt like more than any other promise. It felt dedicated, etched into the universe like the names engraved on their bracelets, and somehow just knowing Adora had never taken hers off made Catra feel the truth behind this statement and behind that single word._

_Their gazes lingered together for a beat longer than their words, affirming the promise locked between them. Adora was so close, and she really hadn’t changed as much as she’d thought. She still had those freckles dotting her cheeks, she still had that scar on her cheek from her training accident earlier this year, she still had that dopey, earnest smile and those hypnotically stunning, magnetic blue eyes._

_The beat grew longer, and Catra’s breaths grew heavier as her lungs tried to keep up with the way her heart hammered in her chest. Adora was so close, close enough for Catra to remember what falling in love with her felt like so many years ago, and yet it felt so new and dangerous._

_She was so close._

_Catra had almost forgotten how much she really wanted to kiss Adora._

_She was sure that at a certain point, Adora’s tender circuit on her shoulder stopped, but her mind had taken her elsewhere--specifically, to the thought of taking her lips against her own, pulling their bodies close to feel if Adora’s heart thundered as brazenly as her own._

_Adora’s expression softened and her eyes darted down, a small enough movement but encouraging for Catra nonetheless. If she was going to wait for Adora, she was going to give her something to come back to._

_Catra kissed Adora, short and light and cautious but flush with every bit of her heart that she wanted Adora to feel._

_And Adora kissed her back, this time with drive and longing that had stirred between them for so many years. Catra almost jumped at the contact but quickly melted into it, reveling in the feeling of kissing Adora, and in the bliss of knowing where their hearts met, and in the way their promise was sealed between their lips._

_Catra pulled away briefly, taking a moment to catch her breath as she rested her forehead against Adora’s. Her cheeks were burning red, and her breaths were short and excited._

_Adora snickered, a light sound that pulled a little smirk from Catra. “So you do like me, huh?”_

_“Get over yourself,” Catra retorted cleverly. “I just did that so you’d come back.”_

_Adora smiled, gentle and relieved. Her fingers brushed along Catra’s wrist, right where her bracelet hung, and drew her fingers along the thin metal. Another promise, one that they were sure to keep._

_“I’ll absolutely come back,” she promised, her voice barely above a whisper as her lips grazed Catra’s lips. “So long as you wait for me.”_

* * *

It was a promise, but they’ve broken promises before.

They’d texted back and forth all term, but now Adora is quiet.

To this moment, Catra still feels the ghost of Adora’s lips against hers, and wonders if Adora will be here to make that feeling part of reality again.

Ten minutes pass, and Adora still isn’t here.

Catra holds her wrist nervously, tracing her thumb along the letters of her bracelet. The cool metal gives her something to ground herself with, something to distract her from the way her heart races and a frustrated growl builds in her chest.

And so Catra waits for her, like she’d promised.

And she waits, wondering just how much that promise really meant.

And she waits until, finally, Adora shows up.

Nothing could have prepared her for seeing Adora again after being apart for so long. They’d long since become familiar with separation, but when Adora steps up to her, all smiles and adoration in her eyes, Catra forgets that she could have ever doubted Adora would come back.

Adora’s changed, and she looks wonderful for it. Catra can’t complain that she’s chosen to wear something sleeveless today (Adora’s arms have _always_ been impressive), and she’s even more enraptured by the new hairstyle she’s adopted, with one side shaved and her golden hair thrown messily over to one side. It’s a new look for her, and Catra’s completely taken by it.

“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting long,” Adora says through a forced laugh, though her brilliant blue eyes betray her delight at seeing Catra.

Catra leaps to her feet and throws her arms around Adora. “You’re not usually one to show up late, Adora.”

Adora pulls her into a tight embrace and sighs into her hair. “Sorry. Traffic was the _worst_.”

“Sure right,” Catra teases as she falls further into Adora’s embrace. “I’m just glad you’re here now.”

Adora smiles against her and presses a quick kiss to Catra’s temple. “Well, you’ve got me for the next few weeks. Maybe we could pick up where we left off?”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you liked me.” 

Catra’s smirk is tilted, taunting, and it elicits a small huff of indignance from Adora before their lips meet again after waiting so long to be back in each others’ lives.


	3. You're What I Reach for When I Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So apparently the She-Ra crew talked about a potential Scorptra kiss in the show that never actually happened, huh?
> 
> Anyways, here's my interpretation of that idea!

Catra had once asked what love felt like.

Of course, it was a joke at the time, mostly made to piss Adora off. For so long, she’d thought love was Adora, thought that it was the way they kept their affections in shadowed hallways and in private corners away from the expectations of the Horde; hidden places and stolen moments where they could just be themselves. She had been certain long ago that she’d been in love with Adora.

And then Adora left.

Clearly, love wasn’t enough to keep her there with her. _Clearly,_ Catra wasn’t worth staying and weathering storms for.

And so love had been twisted. Warped. Mutilated. Something, she reminded herself every day, only led to hurt and misery, and something she so obviously wasn’t deserving of. Love had become so lost on her, or maybe she never really even knew what it had felt like.

Until that day in the Crimson Waste.

Until she felt at home and Scorpia smiled at her, and her heart skipped a beat.

Until she realized maybe she could understand love, if only a little bit.

Catra did all the things she thought was expected of people in love. She gifted Scorpia Tung Lashor’s vest; she could have kept it as a trophy, but gifts were what you gave to people you loved, and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t fit her _very_ well. She toasted Scorpia’s name at the party the rest of her gang threw for them after claiming the First Ones’ ship and capturing Adora, and she relished in the smile brimming with joy that stretched across Scorpia’s face.

And when she pulled her aside, maybe she was a little bit taken by how good a blush looked painted across Scorpia’s cheeks.

Scorpia always looked at her with so much affection in her eyes; Catra couldn’t remember the last time anyone had looked at her like that and meant it.

She had Adora’s sword in hand, and it felt powerful to have the key to the planet in her grasp, or maybe she was still riding the high of every powerful feeling in this moment. Maybe she just liked the way that Scorpia looked at her so admiringly.

Reality caught up in that moment to her, and she remembered where they had to go back to. The Fright Zone. She hated it there, and Scorpia knew that, but she’d never admit it even if those words came from Scorpia’s lips.

Still, it was hard to deny everything else. It was hard to deny her accomplishments within a _single day_ in the Crimson Waste, and it was hard to deny that hearing her accomplishments listed off didn’t make her feel a little bit powerful.

It was even harder to deny that she was happy. For the first time in stars know how long, Catra felt happy. Was it the fact that she’d finally beaten Adora? Was it the fact that they’d kicked the asses of every would-be tough guy in the Crimson Waste? Or, maybe, was it the fact that Scorpia was smiling at her so fully?

Catra let the sword fall to the metal ground, thinking that maybe for a moment it would be nice to forget it all and be happy. She was happy right now, wasn’t she? She could indulge that happiness for a little bit longer.

She lifted herself up onto the tips of her toes and took Scorpia’s lips against her own. This was what people did when they were in love, and it felt good. It felt better than she could have ever really expected, and it felt so much better when Scorpia wrapped her arms around her waist, pulled her close, and kissed her back.

And for a moment, like Scorpia had said, Catra was happy.

* * *

Scorpia left her.

Clearly, what she’d felt for her wasn’t love.

If Scorpia had loved her, she would still be here.

If Scorpia had loved her, they wouldn’t have kissed.

If Scorpia had loved her, she wouldn’t have always looked at her with so much adoration and admiration in her eyes.

Or maybe it was love, and Catra had been right about it all along. Love was toxic, and disappointing, and life had twisted and warped and mutilated every good thing about it before she ever even knew what it could be.

Catra had once asked what love felt like, and now she knew the answer: it was miserable, conditional, and not for her.

Scorpia never loved her, not enough to stay and help her defeat the Rebellion.

Adora never loved her, not enough to stay and run the Horde with her.

But, standing over the broken, burning ruins of Salineas with victory in her sights, she didn’t need love. After all, love was lost on her, but conquest was something she would always win.

And if she was a stranger to love--if love would keep abandoning her, leaving her broken and bitter--then hatred would just have to suffice instead.


End file.
